I Choose to Stay
by MalibuSwede
Summary: A brief little ditty. A what if scenario where Joey gets to show a little spine.


**I CHOOSE TO STAY**

Needless to say, the day didn't work out the way I had once hoped. I spent the better part of the afternoon painting my heartfelt declaration on that brick wall, and all I got in return was a blank stare with a side of indecision and a heavy dose of nervous, shuffling feet.

I took her challenge. I was willing to endure _anything, _I had decided_…_if only she would ask me to stay. But she couldn't—or at least she didn't.

So that's it, my course is set. _True Love_ should be stocked and ready to sail by tomorrow and then I'm off. It would help if I could sleep, but I guess that's too much to ask. Finding some peace would be just…too much…to ask.

Damnit! Who's out in the hall making all that racket?

"Joey."

Sonofabitch. More nervous shuffling. But suddenly she looks up, her milk chocolate eyes peering directly into mine and I go weak with need, and anticipation.

"Stay," she says.

"What?"

"Please? Please stay with me, Pacey."

"What about Dawson?" I ask. Might as well get straight to the point, the ever-present dealbreaker.

"What about him?"

"Jo."

"Can I come in?" she asks as she looks down the hall at a series of partially-opened doors.

"Sure, I'm sorry. Come on in," I say, motioning with my hand. She slips past me and I've no sooner closed the door then her lips are on mine, encompassing me in a kiss that is so warm and passionate I instantly forget about the time we've spent apart.

She pulls away. "I'm sorry," she says. "I've been thinking about that all day and…"

My lips brush across her cheek and I whisper delicately in her ear, "I've been thinking about that all month. I've missed you, Jo."

Her eyes fill with tears. "I was afraid I was too late," she says. "After you left me at the lot, I went back to Dawson's and told him that, as far as I was concerned, the choice was not mine to make. It wasn't about choosing between you or Dawson, my two best friends—it was about choosing friendship, period. I want to be with you, and you and I both want to remain friends with Dawson, but if he has a problem with that, then that's _his _choice, his decision."

Okay, she's got me there. I lean against the door and draw her back into my arms. "You've got one thing wrong, Jo."

"What?" she says, turning to me.

"For me, there never was a choice. I didn't _choose_ to love you…" She looks up expectantly. I place a finger tenderly on her lips. "That's the insane thing about it all. I don't choose to love, I just do." My finger begins tracing her mouth as a smile slowly breaks out. "But I choose to stay."

And then we're lip-locked again. Purring, moaning, desperate to make up for lost time, fingers and hands eager to begin more adventurous explorations. My hands are in conflict, one cradling a luscious breast through a gossamer divide, the other moving its way up her inner thigh. She sighs, generously allowing me access as her hands pull at my shirt; I let out a shaky groan when they touch bare skin. I start to move against her and we hit with a thud against the door.

"Eh hem," Doug says, turning on the kitchen light. Joey buries her face in my shoulder.

"Dougie! Do you mind? Could we have a little privacy?"

"I was thinking the same thing," he says, clearly indicating he's none-too-fond of this particular extracurricular activity ruining his beauty sleep.

"Okay, okay. We'll tone it down."

"Thank you," he says, then he winks at my girl. "Nice to see you back, Joey."

" 'Night, Doug," she chuckles. Another endearing smile lights her face…and I'm lost once again. I pull her onto the couch.

"Stay the night."

"I can't," she moans. "Big wedding tomorrow, maid of honor and all that stuff."

"May I accompany you?"

"Would you?" she responds excitedly. Not surprisingly, we're at it again; we're incorrigible. I'm compelled to kiss every piece of exposed flesh. She is soft, tasty, compliant.

Suddenly, the lights flicker on and off. Dougie. "I should go," she says, getting up. My body is devastated and I take her hand to reconnect; balance is restored.

"Let me drive you," I offer.

"The keys…" Doug starts to say, but I've already grabbed them and we're out the door before he can finish.

But we're not finished. Not by a long shot. Joey Potter chose me, Pacey Witter. She chose **us.**

There's hope in the world, after all.


End file.
